


The Other Side: Part Thirty Five

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drama, F/M, Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: And at last the End. Please leave me a review or just click on the kudos button at the end...you don't have to have an account or to log in to do it. Thank you so much to whomever has followed this through the whole way. It was along saga that I wasn't anticipating.Special thanks to Michele for rewriting Dean's note for me.





	The Other Side: Part Thirty Five

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Domino_Darkwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domino_Darkwolf/gifts).



_Carrie stroked Dean's face and kissed gently along his jawline, loving the texture of his stubble against her lips. He tilted his head back and she edged down to his throat, touching her lips to his voice box in a gesture of infinite tenderness._

 

Carrie paused in her daydream of lying in the circle of his arms and wondered when he would visit next. She always hoped she wouldn't have her period when he showed up and then it hit her.

Carrie looked at the calendar on her phone, feeling a jolt of sheer terror . Late. She was two weeks late with her period.

 

She had never been very good at keeping track of her cycle. Until the last three years it had seldom meant anything. But now it did. How could she have gotten so wrapped up in work that she hadn’t noticed? She guessed she was late by a few days, maybe 4 or 5, but two weeks?

 

She ran it over and over in her mind, back and forth. Counting and recounting the days. Each time it came out to two weeks.

 

She felt like throwing up.  

 

Chloe was running circles around the kitchen like a rabbit on rocket fuel, her nails clicking on the floor.

 

“Chloe stop!” Carrie yelled, frustrated, lashing out at the dog's frenetic energy that amped up her anxiety.

 

The poodle stopped and put her tail between her legs, ears dropping. She looked up at Carrie with chastened brown eyes.

 

Carrie was in a panic. She'd taken her pills consistently. She'd never skipped a dose...except...she thought about the stomach flu she'd had a few months before... but Dean...Dean hadn't showed up for weeks after that... she corrected herself. A week after. Shit. Was it enough? She felt her stomach roil like she was going to be sick.

 

She looked down at Chloe looking forlorn on the floor. She bent over to pick her up, cradled her in her arms.  “I'm sorry. Mommy's not mad at you.”

 

Mommy. She paused, unsure what to feel at the thought. What if she was pregnant? What would she do? She'd never even considered a baby.

 

At all.

 

Chloe licked her delightedly. “Chlo I'm in trouble. I'm in so much trouble.” She put the dog down and tried to catch her breath, leaning heavily on the countertop.  How the fuck was this possible? She didn't have room in her life for a baby. It wouldn't have a father around.

 

What would Dean even do when he found out?

 

She needed to get a pregnancy test to confirm her suspicions but she almost didn’t have to. She knew. Felt it with a dead certainty. She wasn't alone inside her own body.

 

She could not tell him and get it taken care of.

The thought made her feel terrible, guilty and selfish. _Could she throw away what so many women would die to have? Could she not tell Dean at all? Would the deception eat at her?_

 

_Could she even go through with it?_

 

She sat down on the floor and cried. Chloe leapt into her lap and Carrie cradled the dog to her, drawing comfort from the warmth.

 

She cried until she found herself lying sideways on the cold kitchen floor, hair in a tangle.

 

Through her fog, another thought emerged with a sudden clarity. _She could keep the baby._ It didn't matter if Dean wanted to be part of the picture or not. Although she had a sneaking suspicion he actually would stop in now and again. His sense of duty alone may dictate that. But first...first he would be furious.

 

Their casual relationship wouldn't survive it. The casual would be gone. There was nothing causal about a child.

 

Her mind raced until she woke up curled in the same spot, shoulder sore, Chloe lying in the circle of her arms.

 

She need not have worried.

 

Later she awoke in the middle of the night to cramps. Her sides hurt enough for her to double over. She realized something else. The sheets were wet. Her period had started.

 

Carrie never did know for certain if she'd been late or miscarried Dean's child. Maybe it was better that way. But she cried anyway. Whether it was relief or regret, she never knew.

* * *

 

 

Carrie paced the kitchen. Something felt wrong to her. She didn't understand what. Dean had spent far more time away from her then this little absence, nothing about his silence should have sent up red flags. Not yet. But something felt off about this. She felt...wrong--some sense of wrongness she couldn't place. Maybe it was still her hormones being off. Maybe she actually had miscarried. She thought about calling him. She waited. She thought about being tangled in his arms, hearing the low timbre of his voice and the smell of him. Instead of comforting her or sending her pulse racing like thoughts of him usually did, something about it felt...empty. _Wrong._ Unattainable. Off.  

 

Carrie dialed Dean's number with trembling hands. There was no reason to tell him about her ordeal. No benefit to it. It was over. It was her burden, her loss to carry. Still, she had to hear his voice. Had to listen to him breathe. She needed him.

 

The cell rang. And rang. Went to voicemail. _“Leave your name and nightmare at the beep.”_

 

She didn't leave a message. She needed to speak to him. Not his voice recorder.

 

She called again to no avail.

 

Carrie felt a small stone of dread settle into her stomach. She called again.

 

Someone finally picked up and her heart untwisted and then sank as she realized the tenor on the other end was not Dean's baritone.

 

“Hello.”

 

She hesitated. “De... is Dean there?”

 

“No.” The voice replied, laced with something like suspicion. “Who is this?”

 

Carrie felt her hands start to sweat. “Where is he?” She couldn't keep the panic hidden.

 

There was some deliberation on the other line and then a long drawn out exhalation. “Dean died.”

 

The breath left her lungs. “What?” She started to sob before the word was out.

 

“He…” Sam, she knew it had to be Sam, went quiet on the other line for several long moments.

 

“How?”

 

His voice was distant. “Work accident.”

 

She blinked back tears and tried to sound coherent. “W....what happened.”

 

Sam’s tone turned guarded again. He sounded nothing like the bleeding heart Dean had described. “Who is this?”

 

“Carrie Phelps.”

 

“He had you programmed into the phone under Carrie. I mean how did you know him?”

 

“I loved him.” She said brokenly. She felt like she was going to throw up suddenly. _Dean. Gone._

 

“Yeah. A lot of us did.” Sam's voice was still wary.

 

Carrie couldn't seem to catch her breath.

 

“You have a new York area code.” He said it almost like it illuminated something for him.

 

She sniffed. “Yes.” Her hands felt numb as if she was going to drop the phone. Chloe was distressed, pawing at her jeans.

 

Sam's tone of voice shifted a little into something slightly warmer as if something clicked into place and melted the ice. “You were his New York girl.”

 

Carrie's legs buckled and she sat heavily on the kitchen chair. Her breath wouldn't even out. She felt dizzy. “Y…” she couldn't speak.

 

The surviving Winchester took up the conversation. “He was always disappearing to NY when he could steal some time. I knew he had to have someone.”

 

“He never mentioned me?” She hadn't expected him to, but she was slightly disappointed that Sam didn't know about her.

 

“No.” He said. She could hear him taking a swig of a bottle on the other end of the phone.

 

“How long ago did he die?”

 

“A week.” Sam's tone went flat again.

 

A week to the day she'd woken up bleeding from a possible miscarriage. Had that happened the same day he’d died? Perhaps the same time? Was it possible?

 

Her stomach twisted and she started to cry, silent half choked sobs.

 

Sam went silent for a minute. “I gotta go.” He said.

 

“Wait. Wait...what really happened to him?”

 

He hesitated. “It was a work accident.”

 

Carrie brought her voice under control,  even though her lip was trembling. “Sam, my dad used to hunt with your father, John. I know what you guys do.”

 

“Demon.” He said evenly and definitively like he would not elaborate. “I gotta go. I hope you...I'm really sorry.”

 

“I'm sorry too, Sam.”

 

There was a hitch on the other end. Like her sympathy had somehow broken him. “Take care,” he said and hung up.

 

* * *

 

It took Carrie a long time to go back to the cabin, but when she finally went up several months later and kicked the piles of dead debris away from the door so she could enter, she found the note.

 

Chloe scampered in, shaking leaf litter off her curly coat and Carrie walked in slower, her breath a huff of vapor in the cold. The cabin smelled disused and stale.  

 

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought of Dean. It felt like he should be meeting her up here. But of course he wouldn't be. She tried not to dwell on the thought too long. She shut the door and flopped down at the chair next to the woodstove. “This place needs a fire,” she told the dog.

 

She remembered him standing and looking out at the snowy hills in the wintertime like a trapped thoroughbred after he'd taken her virginity several years ago. He'd been so upset that the experience had not been pleasant for her. He wanted to please. Dean always wanted to please.

 

She missed him so much.

 

Carrie grabbed the papers on top of the stove to clear them off and paused. On top was one left in Dean's messy scrawl. She closed her hands around it and took a breath through her nose,  overcome with emotion. It took her a minute to orient herself and swallow down the pain. She began to read:

 

Hey Care,  
  
You found this note so guess you came back to visit our cabin. Always liked it out here with you. Just you and me. It was a escape, from everything. No monsters, no evil sons of sonsofbitches. Just you and me. And it was the best.  
  
I'm not much of a words guy. Know this isn't going to sound like I want it to.  
  
If you found this... I didn't find a way out. And you have to know I'm okay with that. I knew what was coming and I did what I had to do at the time.  
  
Can’t sleep, so I thought I’d write this. you’re sleeping, curled up with that smelly dog and you're beautiful. Want to climb on top of you, inside you cause I know it's gonna be the last time. Don't want it to be. Want you to know I wouldn't leave if it were a choice, sweetheart. I'd keep coming back to you, as long as you'd have me.  
  
So maybe it's better this way. Won't be jerking you around all the time. You're such a good girl and you deserve a guy who is there for you. I can't be him though, I never could.  
  
I've treated you like crap sometimes and I've let you down a lot. I know that. I'm sorry.  
  
Go live your life and find a nice guy. I know you think you can't cause of your problems but there's a guy out there who’s gonna see how awesome you are and you'll make it work. I’m a selfish bastard cause I wish it could have been me.  
  
You're awesome. Never ever doubt that. Take care of the mutt.  
  
I love you.  
  
Dean

 

Chloe stopped nosing around the mattresses and bounded back to her to scratch at Carrie's leg with a keening whine in the back of her throat. Carrie ignored her and swallowed hard. There was a tight lump in her esophagus that was causing pain as she tried to swallow again. Tears welled up and since no one was watching, she crumpled off the chair to the floor and sobbed. Chloe was in her lap instantly, trying to lick away the pain.  

 

Carrie curled up around the sense of loss balling in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed Chloe to her chest and cried.

 

She always knew deep down that Dean was going to break her heart. But she hadn't expected him to break it like this.

 

Chloe kicked away her tears, warm and real and solid against her. Carrie sat in her cabin with her little dog until the sun went down.

* * *

 

Carrie never did get over Dean Winchester. How could she have, really? Her first had been the best. ...He had been a man so extraordinary that every other man couldn't even begin to meet the measuring stick of Dean.

 

Her life went on without him and weeks turned into months turned into years. She still missed him, saved his texts on her phone, stared for hours at the picture she took of him and Chloe on the couch together. She memorized the dimple in his chin, the crinkles near his eyes when he smiled, the sweep of his lashes and the way the light glinted off the plane of his cheekbone. She kept their cabin theirs. Some days she went back to it. She took Chloe and they hiked together then snuggled into the foam mattress she had shared with Dean.

 

Sometimes she'd fool herself into thinking he hadn't died. That he was waiting just around the corner with his easy smile and his mischievous eyes. Her body ached for him and sometimes she felt angry at the loss but then she remembered she would never have known any type of real sexual pleasure if Dean hadn't insisted on helping her. He promised he was the best "vagina trainer"-- and boy had he been.

 

She had to laugh when she thought of him sometimes. His absurdity. His love of life. He couched everything with humor and it helped her to laugh at her own problems. He'd been a gem.  

 

Chloe, the poodle, lived an unnaturally long life, even for a little dog, pushing well into her twenties. She became Carrie's shadow and when Carrie sat with her little apricot form in her lap she thought about how she was the absolute best present he ever could have left her with: Unconditional love.

 

One time about 5 months after Dean died, she swore she glimpsed him in a crowd observing her--but when she rushed toward him,  he was gone and she knew it had to be her grief playing tricks on her mind. She hoped maybe it was his spirit watching over her but she never knew that either.

 

Carrie would keep his memory with her forever. And when her life was at last over, she sincerely hoped that Dean would be the one there to meet her and guide her over-- to The Other Side.

  


**The End.**

****


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